


see the flutter as the patience breaks

by voodoochild



Series: Dots and Dashes [1]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Age Play, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Boss/Employee Relationship, Breathplay, Comeplay, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Injury Recovery, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Open Marriage, Riding, background Kevin/Sami because of course, seriously when i say daddykink i mean daddykink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 10:25:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14353554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voodoochild/pseuds/voodoochild
Summary: For Sami, rehab isn't the worst. Not being allowed to wrestle is the worst. Hunter helps him deal with the frustration.





	see the flutter as the patience breaks

**Author's Note:**

> Set in late October 2015, when Sami was close to being cleared to wrestle after his shoulder injury and Kevin was IC champ. Title from "Dots and Dashes" by Doomtree. Cheers to C and E2 for the shameless enabling and beta. Written for this Sami/Any prompt at the kinkmeme: https://wrestlingkink.dreamwidth.org/279.html?thread=299799#cmt299799.

When you're rehabbing an injury, you get the worst fucking kind of cabin fever.

Everything is painful and annoying and uncomfortable, it's like the walls are closing in and the lamp's starting to stare back at you. You can't move the way you used to, can't do simple shit like open doors and reach for the remote and jerk off without being reminded that oh yeah, _everything fucking hurts_. The first few weeks, you think you're going crazy, you call everyone who'll listen to you whine and watch all the Netflix or play all the video games you can stand to stave off the boredom. Then there's the waiting, when your full range of mobility starts coming back, and you go nuts limiting yourself.

Sami has reached the last stage, where he's healed up and ready to get back in the ring, but the doctors won't clear him. He's out and about, the sling's been off for months, and the stupid shoulder's finally stopped twinging every waking moment. He wants to be at the PC so badly, but all they'll let him do is work out and help train the rookies.

He doesn't hate training, not really, but it absolutely sucks to be on the floor and not in the ring. And so okay, maybe he's been a little short-tempered with the kids. Maybe he's been venting to the trainers too often, but who else can it be? It's not like he can tell Kevin about this.

Apparently, his whining has reached the wrong ears, because he's been Summoned by Hunter.

(It's clearly not an official Summoning, Hunter's texted him to meet at the apartment instead of his office at the PC, but Sami knows it's about him being a pain.)

It's been a while since he's been to the apartment - the one Hunter keeps in Orlando, the one that's served as a temporary home for half the NXT roster as they've moved to Florida, the one that's been the site of some of the crazier parties he's ever been to, the one that his kids never, ever stay at. Sami would question it, but he doesn't know anything about Hunter's marriage beyond the conversation he had with Stephanie when he'd first signed.

_Sami, I'm sure I don't need to tell you about the relationships that develop when you're in the business and out on the road with people. I will tell you that if you form a personal relationship with anyone, up to and including my husband, I expect you to conduct yourselves with the utmost privacy. Should your relationship become a source of embarrassment for anyone, it will result in disciplinary action. Understood?_

So he drives over to the apartment in a snapback, tee, and jeans. No merch, as per usual. He rings the bell and waits for Hunter to buzz him up. The elevator ride is free of anyone who might recognize him, and he knocks on the door to 25E.

"Hey kid," Hunter says, leaning against the doorframe. Fuck, he looks amazing, workout shorts and muscle tee, Bluetooth in his ear that he clicks off. "Good to see you, you look much better than you did the last time I was down here."

Sami grins, rotates his arm all the way around to prove the mobility's back. "Just gotta be cleared."

Hunter nods, clapping a hand on the non-injured shoulder and guiding him inside the apartment, kicking the door shut. "Yeah, about that..."

"Come on," Sami says, letting Hunter back him past the living room. The couch that's seen its fair share of debauchery, the desk he sucked Hunter off under last time, and the floor-to-ceiling windows with the Atlantic view. "I've been working out for a month straight, I'm benching 50 more than I used to, Scott has tried to _actually_ kill me with EQI pushups, and they won't let me fucking anywhere near a ring! Hunter, *please*-"

"Okay, just so we're clear, it's not my call. I cannot clear you to wrestle, I'm not a doctor."

"If I have to sit in my apartment for one more Raw where I get to see all of my best friends do what I love, what I'm great at, I swear to God, I'm going to go insane. And Kevin - Kevin is Intercontinental champion, I love him, I'm proud of him, but I want those title shots too, and I can't even take a fucking back-body drop, you just - you have to let me wrestle-"

"Sami." Hunter's got that tone in his voice, the one that goes straight to Sami's dick - _sit up, pay attention, beg nice_. He holds his hand up, and Sami's fingers curl into fists. Knows what's coming, knows how good it'll be, but has to fight it. "You will be cleared when the doctors say you're cleared. That's not why you're here. Take a breath and relax, okay?"

He can feel his jaw tense, and he doesn't even mean to be difficult, but it's like his body won't listen to what he wants. It always takes getting out of his own head, handing himself over to Hunter (or Kevin, on a few occasions) to truly submit and enjoy himself. It's never, ever easy, and Hunter knows that, so why is he telling Sami to-?

"Sami. Deep breath in." 

Involuntarily, he takes the breath, holds it. Realizes after a few seconds that Hunter hasn't told him to exhale, and meets Hunter's gaze - calm, a little amused, definitely turned-on. The seconds stretch on, and he starts to worry, bites his lip, and Hunter nods.

"Let go." 

The breath punches out of him and his knees buckle, a little. Hunter catches him, a hand under his bicep, and it's the rehabbed shoulder. He lets his weight rest a little, lets Hunter see the muscle strain and hold, and Hunter nudges him upright, back another step. 

"Yellow," Sami says, once he gets the breath. "Are you...?"

Hunter steps back, holding his hands in front of him. "Am I what? Finish your question."

"I'm okay with the breathplay, but my limits haven't changed. Can you ask before you do that shit?"

"Yes. I’m sorry I threw it out there, but you looked like you were going to have a panic attack." Hunter shifts his weight from foot to foot, seems to be deciding something. "I just - look, can we sit on the bed?"

Sami nods, follows Hunter into the bedroom. He takes off his cap, because it's stupid to be wearing it inside, twists it between his hands until Hunter takes it from him, tosses it onto the dresser. He sits down on the bed and crooks his finger at Sami.

"Kid," Hunter starts, and Sami bites back the impulse to correct him (he's only sixteen years younger than Hunter and okay, yes, he gets off on Hunter's Dad persona exactly as much as everyone else in developmental does, but sometimes it's annoying). He does sit down, kicking his sneakers off, fingers spreading out on the white sheets. "I know what rehab does to you. I know, okay, I've been there. It's frustrating as all fuck and there's too much shit in your head, but you're letting it affect other people. You know I can't do anything to clear you, but will you let me do this?"

It's different than they usually play, where Sami plans out what he needs and Hunter gives it to him. This should make him apprehensive, make him do what he usually does, which is safeword and re-negotiate. It should . . . but he thinks he might do anything to scratch the rehab itch, though, and Sami pulls his knees up to rest his arms around them.

"Tell me what you want to do. I know you want to call it as we go, but I - I need to know first."

"I'm going to do the breath thing again, because it's the easiest way I know to get you under. I'm going to touch you, get you ready. I know you want to prove yourself, so I'm going to tell you to ride me. Fast or slow as I tell you until I know you're in subspace, and then I'm going to edge you. You won't come until I say so, and I really want to hear you beg for it. Agreed?'

Sami is so, so close to whimpering and just letting Hunter do what he wants to him, but he has to know everything. He has to. 

"What do you want me to call you?"

Hunter quirks an eyebrow, runs a hand over his buzzcut. "That's up to you. You can call me Sir, if you're in the mood to be bratty. But if you want to be nice, then you know what you need to call me."

Sami intends to fight it out, be a brat, he really does. They’ve talked around the latter kink, and he doesn’t need it, it’s not like he’s that needy right now. He means to tense back up and grit his teeth and mouth off to Hunter, and it's all going fine up until the point he actually opens his mouth.

"Daddy," he says, and fuck, _fuck_ , his voice is going young and stupid already. The word echoes in the bedroom, and it makes him lightheaded, all the blood in his body rushing to his cock. He hardens fast, denim bulging out, and Hunter catches his hands before he can move. "Daddy, please-"

"What a good boy," Hunter says, all warm, pleased tone. Sami shivers, tries to curl in on himself, and Hunter shakes his head. "Sami, no. You know what you asked for. You know how this works. Let me look at you."

This first part is always the hardest, where he has to fall into being small. Weak. Vulnerable. It's something he loves when he's deep into it, but getting there is rough. Hunter's always known how to read him, though, and he runs a calloused palm over Sami's cheek. Sami turns into it without thinking, and Hunter smiles.

"There you are. I know there’s a sweet boy waiting for me. Will you take off your shirt for Daddy?"

Sami bites his lip, but starts tugging his shirt over his head when Hunter lets his hands go. The shoulder twinges, takes him out of headspace a bit, and Hunter clocks it. Kneels up behind Sami and palms his dick through the denim. 

"Breathe in, okay?" Same as before, Sami inhales and waits for Hunter to tell him to exhale. He counts twenty. Thirty, his pulse speeding up. Forty-five, a little dizzy, and then Hunter nods. "Now out." He exhales on a whimper, his cock pushing against his jeans, against Hunter's hand. "So hard for me already?"

"Yes, Daddy," he answers, unable to stop from snapping his hips forward, mouth seeking Hunter's shoulder, his hand curling around Hunter’s wrist. He kisses the hot, smooth skin with a moan. "Please touch me?"

"You're making demands, little boy. I know what you want, it's what you always want. To decide when and how and where I touch you. To decide what happens. Ah, no, stop. You don't move until I tell you. Yes or no?"

He tries to focus on the question - was it about him wanting to decide or him not moving? Tries his hardest to stay still, but Hunter is so big and hot and hard against him, he can feel Hunter's dick pressing against his ass. Wants to be fucked, or at least get on his knees, maybe suck Hunter off if he asks. His stomach feels like a drain, arousal circling and winding and settling in his own cock, and Sami shakes his head.

"I don't - I don't know."

"Okay. All right." Hunter's voice is low, coaxing, and his hands settle on Sami's hips. "Daddy's going to undress you. Stay as still as you can unless I move you. No touching yourself or Daddy."

It's so hard, but he obeys, fights the impulse to move and lets Hunter unzip his jeans. Hunter gets them down, Sami’s boxers afterward, and turns him around. He reaches out and Sami whimpers for Hunter's huge, gorgeous hands on his ass. 

“Very good,” Hunter says, digging his fingers in, smoothing his palms down the curve of Sami’s ass to pull him closer. “Good boy. You're so sweet for me when you want to be. Mmm, let's see you convince Daddy to touch you.”

Hunter did this last time, the one and only time they’d tried this out before. He wants to hear Sami beg and moan and go crazy to be touched. Pushes Sami past his own boundaries, which he needs when he's not in charge. So he strips Sami down and keeps his own clothes on and winds Sami up, and it's so, so worth it.

Knowing all of this in the back of his head does not stop the blush from spreading across Sami’s face and down his chest, and Hunter smiles for it.

“I- I want you naked, Daddy.”

Hunter cocks his eyebrow. “You want? Try again.”

“Please let me undress you, Daddy?” Hunter waits while Sami squirms against his hold, rubbing his bare cock against Hunter's clothed one. The friction is driving him crazy - he knows he's very close to disobeying, but it's been so long since he's gotten off with anyone else that he almost doesn't care. “You feel so good, so big. I want to see you, I miss seeing you. I miss . . . mmm, everything.”

“You miss getting fucked?” Hunter asks, letting his fingers trail over Sami’s hole. Sami hears himself cry out, knows it’s too-loud, too-obvious, vaguely remembers something Hunter mentioned about soundproofing, and a hard slap lands on his left asscheek. He howls, and Hunter grabs him by the chin with his free hand. “I asked you a question, little boy. You need to answer Daddy. Do you miss getting fucked?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Sami cries, grinding back against the finger Hunter’s got trailing around the rim of his asshole. “Yes, Daddy, please fuck me, please, I need it. I miss it so much, I miss you filling me up.”

He’s gasping, fucking himself shallow and dry, and Hunter kisses him. Teeth clashing, slow and wet and Sami whining into the kiss. Hunter takes his hand away, strokes fingers back up his ass to press into the small of his back, rocking him. He can feel the precum soaking through his shorts, feel the emptiness in his ass, and he can’t hold in the tears pricking at his eyes.

“Keep begging pretty for me,” Hunter says, swiping his thumb over Sami’s lips. He has to take it into his mouth, needs to stop up the sounds, and Hunter spanks him again. He lets the finger go, cries out and gasps for Hunter, soft, shivering little sounds that Hunter nods for. “Better, little boy. I’ll let you use your mouth later, trust me. Let’s get you ready, would you like that?”

“Uh-huh.” 

“Sit still while I get supplies. When I come back, I want you in my lap, ready to be fingered open. Understand?”

“Mmmm, fuck, yes Daddy.” 

Cold and aching, his dick pressing against his belly, and he can hear Hunter undressing, retrieving lube and condoms, but he can’t turn his head or register anything else. His heartbeat is too-loud in his ears, everything like steam in his head, impossible to catch and hold a thought beyond _need want please Daddy please_.

And then Hunter gets back on the bed, sits up against the headboard with his thick cock almost ready for Sami. He crooks a finger, and Sami climbs into his lap, settles with a low groan against Hunter. There are lube-slicked hands on his ass, grabbing and stretching and opening him, and he gasps, high singing cries that make Hunter lean forward to kiss-bite him for.

“That’s it, that’s my good little boy. Open up for Daddy. Let Daddy stretch your pretty hole open - ah, baby, I know, I know it hurts, but you can take it for me, can’t you?”

Yes. Yes of course he can take it, he has to. He needs to show Hunter that he’s ready to get back in the ring, and this is such small, unimportant pain compared to the rehab he’s already gone through. It’s two fingers, and they’re so much better than his own, too thin to be satisfying. His pain-noises are already changing to groans of satisfaction, though they’re muffled against Hunter’s neck.

Hunter clasps a hand to the back of Sami’s neck, scissors his fingers and stretches Sami further. Makes him shake in Hunter’s lap, and Hunter’s growling filth between kisses, all “gorgeous fucking boy, that’s it, take it sweet, open up, gonna make you ride me, show me how much you love my cock.”

He can hear himself whining, only able to get out “pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease”, burying his face in Hunter’s neck. There’s more lube and latex and fuck, the first flex of Hunter’s hips feels like almost-too-much. Hunter’s dick is splitting him open, thick and sweet and perfect, and he can do this, he remembers how to take this. How to arch his back and relax his muscles, splay his hands out on Hunter’s chest for balance.

“Good boy, Sami,” Hunter purrs, wrapping a hand around Sami’s hip, pushing in further as Sami gasps and bites his lip and takes it. “Almost, baby boy. Almost there. Gonna ride me when you finally let me in?”

“Yes, yes please, please let me?” His eyes are screwed shut and Hunter’s almost bottoming out, and the pain’s settling into that gorgeous burn. Sparking along his back and legs and belly, and his eyes fly open as Hunter settles both hands on his hips and pulls him down. “Oh *fuck*, Daddy Daddy oh - mmmmm-”

“Don’t move.” 

Sami tries, he really does, but he can’t stop the little motions of his hips, chases the _there-yes-there_ of it, and Hunter groans, reaches over to the table for a cock ring. Sami starts shaking his head, he doesn’t like cock rings, they hurt in the really bad way, and Hunter shushes him. Pulls out enough to snap the ring over his own dick, jaw tense, and lets out a long breath.

“Fucking forgot how greedy you are, baby. Shhh, you’re all right.” Hunter’s hand closes over Sami’s dick, hard and red and leaking, strokes tight down his shaft. “I’m not putting anything on that pretty cock of yours. I want you to be good for me and wait - yeah, that’s it, you ride me however you want. Let me see you enjoying yourself. Show me how much you need my dick.”

Everything feels like it starts to rush through him as he begins riding Hunter, his heartbeat and the blood to his cock (throbbing and dripping in Hunter’s hand) and how fucking amazing he feels. He works his hips in sharp little grinds first, wants to savor the overwhelming stretch and fullness. Claps a hand over his own mouth, because he’s so loud, he’s never this loud, and Hunter growls, twists his hands behind his back.

Makes him arch his back, his thighs strain to move faster, and as if from underwater, he hears himself crying out. 

“Daddy Daddy Daddy let me come please let me come I can’t take it-”

“Yes, you can.” He can barely hear Hunter, it’s more the tone than anything else - _Daddy said take it_ \- and he’s begging and whimpering, sobbing every time his dick brushes Hunter’s belly. “Slow down, baby boy. Slow for me. Show me you can go slow.”

The muscles in his thighs feel like he’s just done about a hundred squats, but he goes slower. Rising and falling on Hunter’s cock, and Hunter slowly takes his hands off Sami’s arms. Closes his hands around Sami’s hips, guiding his motions, pulling him down deep on the downstroke. He fucking loves how huge Hunter’s hands are on him, settling into the crease of his thighs. Grabbing at the soft skin there, sliding around to his ass and digging in.

God, everything feels so fucking amazing, he can barely breathe for how good it is. Moving without thinking about it, without taking his shoulder into account, just letting himself feel good. Floating. He leans back, bracing his hands on Hunter’s thighs, and Hunter swears under his breath, eyes widening. They watch Sami’s hips circle, watch Hunter’s cock disappearing into him, and Sami realizes he’s making high-pitched moans. It doesn’t matter, not when he needs to keep riding Hunter and he wants so badly to come.

“So good, so good please Daddy,” Sami begs, voice high and slurred and sweet. “Pleasepleasepleaseplease I have to come please let me-”

“Wait.”

He cries out loudly - not a sob, he doesn’t usually cry for sex, but a shout that tears out of him. Then another. Gasping and shivering and he has to do it again for Hunter tilting his hips and hitting his prostate dead-on.

“Daddy _I can’t-_ ”

“Count for me down from five.”

He knows what Hunter wants. Lifts his hips up and drops back down, counts “five”. Does it again and again and again and again, counting down, and his entire body is trembling. Whispers “one”, and bites his lip until he feels Hunter’s hand on his cock.

“Let it out, Sami,” Hunter murmurs, and it’s the spark that he needs. He comes in Hunter’s hand, all over it, moaning loud and needy in what he’s not entirely certain is English. Sometimes it’s French or Arabic, Hunter has commented how hot it is, like now. “Good boy, you’re so good. Feel fucking amazing coming for me. What do you say?”

“Thank you, Daddy,” he gasps, pulling Hunter’s wrist up. 

Licks up his own come, salt-bitter on Hunter’s skin, wants to get each finger clean. Hunter pushes two into his mouth at once, making him gag, making him moan around them as he swallows. Smears a little of the come onto Sami’s lips and watches him lick it off with a pleased, knowing look. 

“You’re being so good for Daddy. Yeah, that’s my boy, so good with your mouth.” Hunter rubs his thumb against Sami’s mouth, curls fingers through his beard, and tugs him in for a kiss. All Sami can do is let Hunter lick and suck and bite at his mouth, grind down gingerly the way he needs after he’s come, work through the aftershocks and get himself back into a rhythm. “Do you want to finish me off now, or with your mouth?”

“I can choose?” Sami asks, and that’s stupid, it’s so stupid, but the question makes Hunter grin and kiss him hard.

“I’ll be happy either way, little boy. Love your ass, watching you ride me sweet. And you know how much I love your mouth, how pretty you look sucking my cock. Which do you want?”

Sami knows he’s blushing, and his voice comes out soft as he says “may I suck you?”

Hunter laughs, but it’s affectionate and gentle, and he eases out of Sami. Disposes of the condom - he likes Sami’s mouth around his bare cock - and urges Sami to kneel between his legs. “Just for being polite,” he says, running a hand through Sami’s curls, “you can put your hands wherever you want.”

“Thank you,” Sami breathes, rubbing his face against Hunter's thigh. “Mmmmm, thank you Daddy.”

He puts his hands on Hunter's chest, first. Strokes up and down the sweat-sheened muscle as he kisses his way down Hunter's hip to his dick. Sami loves cocksucking in general, the taste and feel and stretch of a dick in his mouth, the challenge in figuring out how to make a man come, having to control his breathing. But when he's in this kind of headspace, he can't get enough of it. 

He swallows Hunter down, wants all of that thick cock in his mouth, and he can't stop moaning for it. Works his way into a rhythm, spit and precum smearing all over his mouth and beard, and Hunter growls in pleasure, gripping Sami's hair.

“Little boy… oh, fuck yes, yes, you and that filthy fucking mouth of yours. Gonna wreck it - ah Jesus, like that, take it for me, look so fucking pretty like this, baby boy.”

Sami doesn't even want to stop for breath, lets himself sink all the way down and choke around Hunter's dick a little. Licks up all the fluid beading on the tip and spreads it around, sucks just on the tip to hear Hunter cry out his name and shove his head down. He doesn't know how long he takes it, and it doesn't matter, everything's white in his head, everything is good.

Hunter gets him flipped onto his back, kneels over his chest, and he loves when Hunter comes like this. Opens his mouth and his eyes and watches Hunter jerk off. Come all over his mouth and chest, and Sami lies dazed and exhausted and wet. Weakly, he licks some of the come off his lips and Hunter kisses him carefully. Sami gets overwhelmed during aftercare; it's good when done right, and stifling when it isn't. 

Hunter does it right: letting Sami float and lie, holding his hands tightly but leaving his lower body alone, telling him how good he was and how well he'd taken it. Cleaning them up as much as possible.

“Scene?” Sami asks, because he doesn't think he can go any longer.

“Scene.” And Sami breathes deep, pushes the little-him away, buries his face in Hunter's chest. “Hey, kid. How are you feeling?”

“Dizzy,” he responds, and Hunter shifts to wrap his arms around Sami. “Not as embarrassed as I'd thought. It - it was okay for you that I went that deep?”

Hunter coughs in surprise. “More than just fucking okay. I - you know I'm selective about that kind of thing. I don't do it often, or with just anyone. That? Was one of the hottest experiences of my life.”

“Oh. Good. That's good. I think … I think I really liked being controlled. I needed it. And you know I love it when you talk, so that made me drop harder. I just don't know if I could do it all the time, I'm sorry, it would be too much. Too intense-”

“Sami, I know you. I know you need to keep control 90% of the time. That's okay, you're okay. It's fine to ask for something like this once in a while, too.”

Hunter's hands stroke calm and firm down his back, and he feels the heaviness settling in. Re-orienting him in his body.

“Can I sleep here?” he asks, grabbing a pillow and curling around it.

“Of course you can. We'll talk more in the morning.”

Hunter lets him go, stretches out on his back. Neither of them are really into cuddling while going to sleep, but Sami knows he's going to wake up curled around Hunter, who will grumble and make octopus jokes and not-move anyway.

Sami falls asleep with the intention of getting back in the ring as soon as possible; proving himself worthy of both his talent and the trust and effort Hunter puts into him.


End file.
